Isabella Swan- 3 Years Ago (Summer of 2007)

What was I doing? This was absolute insanity. Upstate New York? Why? Out of anywhere in the world, I had chosen this to hold my summer stay. Well, I guess chosen isn’t the right word.

When I had told my mom that I wanted to go away alone for the summer, she had at first responded with a firm, “hell, no." But, I had worn her down over time with comments like, “alone time with Charlie." After I’d convinced her, she threw herself into the project, beginning with research on where my summer getaway would take place. When she was contacted by an old friend--her name was Evelyn, or Emily… something that started with an E--saying that, ironically, she ran a sleep away camp in upstate New York, the decision was made before I could even say a word. But when I looked Camp Willowbrook online, I was just as excited as my mother. It was far away, secluded, and housed hundreds of campers every summer. I wouldn’t have to exist. It was absolutely perfect.

 My breath hitched when a "Camp Willowbrook 3 miles" sign came up on the left. After getting over the initial shock, I sighed in relief. I had been listening to my parents bicker for three days. That’s how long this road trip had taken. Three days of stupid fights over stupid things that didn’t really matter. I just sank into my seat, put in my iPod and watched the world fly by outside my window. And when my iPod died, I sat and stared at the back of my mother’s seat and thought about all the things that were wrong about this situation. There was more than what you would think. Much, much, more.

Alice Brandon

I fidgeted. Twiddled my thumbs. Played with my hair. Stared out the window. Listened to my iPod. Nothing seemed to make the world outside my window fly by any faster. I could not wait to get there.

Camp Willowbrook had been my escape for the past two years, and I could not wait to get back there and see all the friends that I had only been able to email for the past year.

“Why so jumpy, Shorty?” my step-brother, Emmett McCarty, said from his seat next to me. We were the same age. Physically, Emmett and I were total opposites. He was as tall as a mountain, and I came up to his forearm. He was extremely muscular, and I was thin but by no means was I strong. Interests-wise, we didn’t really match up. Emmett mostly focused on his football, and charming the pants off every girl in town. That’s about it. I had made fashion my hobby but I also loved music, and I was very studious. But for some reason, we got along really well. We were really close and great friends. So, I was dragging him along to camp with me this year. I think that the “hot girls” comment got him interested more than anything else. But I didn’t complain. He was coming with me. And I  was absolutely positive that he would be hooked, just like I was

“Maybe I’m excited. And just watch, next year, you’ll be doing the same exact thing.” He rolled his eyes, and put his ear buds in his ears.

Okay, I’ve only been at Camp Willowbrook for one summer. But last year, I had the time of my life. I didn’t really fit in with the people at school, but at camp, it was different. Somehow, I’d managed to make more friends in a single summer than I had in my entire life. And these friends liked me for who I was, and not who I thought I should be. Camp was the place where I belonged, and we’d be there in a couple of hours. I absolutely could not wait.

Jasper Whitlock

“Anything I can help you with, Esme?” I asked, coming into the office. She looked up, and smiled up at me from her desk. She immediately stood, and crossed the room to me. She put an arm around my shoulders, which was difficult for her, seeing as though she came up to the middle of my forearm.

“Nothing right now, Jasper, but I promise as soon as I have a job for you, I’ll let you know.” I nodded, and walked back out into the summer heat. Edward calls it sucking up, but it’s so much more. I owed Esme so much more than I could ever repay, and doing simple chores around the house when she needed me to do them was the least I could do.

My parents, if you can call them that, didn’t really raise me. Esme’s always been my mother. I’ve known Edward since kindergarten, and we’ve been best friends ever since the day we wrestled for the last box of crayons in the bin. We’d both been sent to the principal’s office, and upon walking out, we both just laughed at the situation.

My birth mom was a…whore. There’s no real other way to say it. My dad was some guy who picked her up off the streets. And the rest--well, I guess you can figure it out. My mom wanted to keep me. My dad didn’t. They moved in together and forged a marriage license because neither could afford me alone. My dad was abusive. He blamed me for all the problems in his life. I was the reason for the drinking, the cheating, the drugs, the money…or lack thereof. And because I was the reason for the problems, I needed punishment. Physical punishment. The memories send shivers down my spine even now. Even when I haven’t seen my father in over three years. Even now, the memories of the bruises, and waking up to the scars makes a part of me die inside. I felt the spot in my side begin to throb with sudden pain, and I flinch.

Esme always knew that there was something wrong, but until the beginning of 8th grade, about three and a half years ago, she never really said anything. Only until one day when I "looked particularly troubled," as she put it, did she start asking questions. I’d slept under her roof many nights, eaten too much of her food, and wasted too much of her money to not answer every single one. She didn’t seem surprised when I told her the stories; she just sat there and listened. She seemed to understand. That was the day I started looking at Esme as my mother. When I was done, she immediately hugged me and told me that everything was going to be alright. My mother loved me, at least she said that she loved me, and she told me this almost every day. Something was different this time though, the words coming from Esme’s mouth, in her arms. They actually meant something. It was a promise rather than a comforting phrase.

And everything was alright, to a point. The means are a little horror-inducing. What I didn’t know as a kid was that I was not the only one receiving my father’s wrath. My mother was, too. Esme always told me that she was taking the beating for me, but I don’t think that’s true. My father was a terrible person. My blood simply wouldn’t be good enough for him. One time was never enough, and I remember what happened as if it was yesterday…

My mother stood up to him. She told him that she was leaving with me. That it wasn’t fair if we suffered the way he did just because he said so. He told her to shut up, but she wouldn’t listen. She kept going on and on about all the ways he’d ruined her life…he took a gun to her chest, and pulled the trigger. The sound rung painfully in my ears. My mother’s eyes rolled back into her head, and then she crumpled to the floor. He bent down, took her wallet out of her pocket, and then turned around. He gave me a long look, and then walked towards the door, stuffing his gun into his pocket…

The spot seemed as if it had its own heart beat, as it always did when I thought of him. I sat on the ground and clutched my side, angry for what he did to me. What he did to my mother.

When Esme and Carlisle had legally adopted me, the pain was over. She told me so, and it was almost true. I wasn’t living happily ever after, though. The memories of him and my life before haven’t changed, and I’m still not immune to them. It hurts me even now. But I’m as close to a happily ever after as I will ever be.

I sat under the tree, clutching at my side. Every memory kept twisting the thorn, deeper, and deeper. If only something,..or someone,..could remove it.

Rosalie Hale

“Are you sure that’s everything, Miss Hale?” the butler, Isaac, asked.

“Yup, that’s the last of it,” I smiled, glancing at the trunk of the limousine. It was stuffed packed with my entire lot of luggage. I turned my attention back to Isaac.

“I’m sure going to miss your Company, Miss Hale,” he said, opening the car door for me. “The house will sure be empty without you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Isaac. And remember, it’s Rosalie or Rose. None of this Miss Hale business.” He chuckled. After 16 years of working for my family, he still insisted on calling me, Miss Hale. I absolutely detested it.

“Just following orders from your father, Miss- I mean Rosalie,” I rolled my eyes. “He’s not here, and neither is my mother, so you can call me whatever you want.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll write you a letter every day, Isaac,” I told him, pulling him into a hug. He hesitated, but then put his arms around me.

“I’ll be sure to respond,” he said, pulling back. His face turned serious. “You should write to your father, too, you know,” he chastised me. I rolled my eyes.

“I never know where he is Isaac, and he doesn’t care enough to even read them. What’s the point?”

“He loves you, Rosalie.”

“He just loves his moneymore,” I grumbled under my breath. Isaac frowned, but didn’t argue. I was right, and he couldn’t deny it.

“I’ll see you at the end of August,” I said, turning towards the car. He nodded, and tried to hide wiping his eyes. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. I stepped into the limousine, and waved goodbye as the driver, Andrew, pulled away.

“To Camp Willowbrook, Miss Hale?”

“On the double, Andrew,” I said.

I turned to look out the window, and Isaac was still watching the limousine from a block away. I smiled. Isaac acted more like a father to me than my father did. He had lived with my family ever since I was born, and sixteen years later, he knew me better than almost anyone else. He had been the one to pick me up from school and come to my dance recitals. He organized my birthday parties, and made me dinner every night. The one thing that I remember my dad saying to me was "don’t befriend the staff." I’d replied with an acidic "he’s a better friend than you are." He was more of a parent than my father ever would be. My father had yet to give me any of these things. Sure he sent me expensive gifts for my birthday, but the last time I spoke to him was two weeks ago when he left for Costa Rica. I’d trade all the Tiffany’s in my jewelry box for a childhood with my father, and my mother.

I saw him so little, that if I didn’t have a picture of him on my nightstand, then I probably wouldn’t remember what he looked like. My mother left us when I was three. I had no desire to look for her, though I certainly don’t look like my dad. He had black hair and green eyes…nothing like my blond haired-blue eyed face.

I was pretty. There was no denying how incredible I looked, no matter what time of day. And everyone told me so, even without my personal opinion of my own flawlessness. I’d had my fair share of boyfriends for a junior-to-be. The current lucky male was Royce King. And I wasn’t even that interested in him in the first place. I would break up with him, but our fathers are business partners. I would be in huge trouble with daddy if I did anything to risk his huge fortune. I could care less about my inheritance. I probably didn’t have any to begin with.

A couple of years ago, I’d told Isaac that I wanted to go away for the summers. Isaac had assured me that sleep-away camp was a character-building, life-changing experience, and he’d already had the payment in before I could protest. So off I was to Camp Willowbrook, kicking and screaming the whole way. Metaphorically, of course.

Just like he’d predicted, Camp Willowbrook changed not only my life, but who I was. I’d loved it even before last year, when Alice came into my life and threw me for a loop. She was the best friend I’d ever had and I couldn’t wait to see her in a matter of hours. I stared out the window, wondering what the coming summer held in store for me.

Edward Cullen

I sat in the cabin that was destined to be my home for the next eight and a half weeks. Jasper’s bed sat parallel to mine. He had gone off to suck up to Esme like he always did. I loved Jasper, I did. He was my brother officially now, but even before, he’d been that. But, his constant "showing of his gratitude" toward Esme was starting to get old. It’s not like Esme really minds having him around. Whatever. Jasper is totally anal when it comes to that kind of thing.

I walked around the small room, studying the names that hung above each bed. Mine, and Jasper’s of course, but then there was two others. Someone called Emmett and another one named Jacob. Two normal-sounding names. I silently prayed that they’d be as normal as the names their parents gave them.

I then thought about the possible options girl-wise. Every year, the camp brought in a whole slew of new hotties that needed a private tour around camp. And I was more than willing to provide that service. Eight weeks, over four hundred girls. Yep, Eddie, you’ve got time. For the hot ones at least.

I had never had trouble when it came to the ladies. They always liked me. I just had to pick the one I liked the best. My natural charm and my, well, spectacular good looks, always won over them like candy for a baby.

I never really expected to fall in love. I mean sure hooking up was one of my favorite activities, but I just didn’t feel...connections with those girls. I was going to be one of those guys that goes to a bar every night and takes home a different girl each night. That was just the way things were going to be. I was going to be happy that way. To some degree.

Emmett McCarty

“Hey Emmett!” my stepsister, Alice, called.

“Yo, shorty, what’s up?” I smiled as she walked into the room. Alice was about half my size, and it startled me even after living together for over a year. I loved her. I really did. As a sister, of course. When my dad married her mom, I was a little skeptical. I didn’t want to have to deal with an annoying girl from school. It turned out, I’d never really met Alice before, though we’d been going to the same school since kindergarten. I was glad I had finally met her, though. She was funny, smart, and didn’t take any of my crap. She was real with me, and though my perverted jokes disgusted her, she laughed right along. She knew all my secrets (not that I had many) and she knew me better than almost anyone else.

“We’re leaving! Grab your bags, we can’t be late!” She smiled widely, and ran out. I shook my head, chuckling. Alice was dragging me to sleep away camp. Okay, I wanted to go. I had to get out of Biloxi this summer, that’s for sure. This small town was boring enough. Without Alice around, I don’t think I’d be able to stand it. I had friends of course, and plenty of girls at my fingertips, and a town that pretty much worshipped my football-playing ass, but still. Sleep-away camp seemed the easiest way out. I guess I could have fun. I would try. I’m just along for the ride. One thing’s for sure, this summer is going to be different.